


Perfect Darkness

by YourDarlingSon



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Age Difference, Gender ambiguous listener, M/M, Shameless Smut, Sleepy Sex, Smut, T is horny juice, Trans Male Character, Transitioning, no beta readers we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26092432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourDarlingSon/pseuds/YourDarlingSon
Summary: Cicero wakes up in the dark, but everything about his life has changed.From a nightmare, it has become a beautiful dream.
Relationships: Cicero/Listener (Elder Scrolls)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51





	Perfect Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to be with my own academic/wizard character (trans masc they/them he/him), but read it however you like. 
> 
> Listener (ftmq 21)   
> Cicero (m 36)

Cicero woke from an uncharacteristically deep and restful sleep. A foreign sensation, something plush and warm, pressed softly against his lips. He kissed into the darkness, his body sleepily moving according to basal instinct. A leg was wrapped over his thigh, pressing against his semi-erection in a way that was... very nice. _So nice_. He thought he might be in heaven. It was a heaven just for him; a void, perfumed with incense, poison, and musk. At the same time, a gentle hand drew wide, lazy circles over his stomach, nails carding through the hair he had grown in his maturity. He drew an arm up, feeling in the dark for whomsoever was paying him such tender attention. He found a smooth, soft _soft_ swath of flesh, which shivered at his touch. There they were. 

  
His memories of the night before were hazy, colored with a rich fog of perfect contentedness, pleasure, and brandy. As the one of his hands traced the soft, _so soft_ , skin down over the curve of a round buttock, the other quested for, and found, the curve of delicate neck and collarbone, draped with thick, voluminous hair. He could feel the pulse beating under his fingers, bird-quick and betraying an arousal he usually associated with terror. _Not terror this time_ , he thought, _but something almost as good._

  
The skin, like satin on his bare hand, grew hot. He guided their hips lower, until he felt a slippery sliding against the bare flesh of his thigh. A breathy sigh came from the darkness, taking on a pleading tone as his fingers wrapped gently around the curve of their jaw, then their throat, with the most delicate pressure. His other hand, on their hip, left its place to brace against the bed.

  
With the confident strength of a cat, he flipped the pair of them over, eliciting a squeak from his partner and a thump from the wide wooden bed frame. His arm, the one now supporting his weight over them, shifted so that it could tangle in their hair. _So silky_ , he thought, _this could be a dream_. A wonderful dream. Maybe he had died, and was finally being rewarded. His fist closed tightly, pulling a desperate gasp from the darkness. 

  
As his mouth moved to gently brush his partners in the dark, the hand which had held their jaw now moved down their body. It traced the form of an entirely nude, smooth body, to hook behind their knee, pulling it up so that their calf rested over his shoulder. He was fully hard now, blindly imagining the person he coveted most, the person he had longed for, spread out beneath him. They were his at last, after so long. As real as the hand stroking his temple, running fingers blindly through his hair, tucking it behind his ear. 

  
Holding his partner thus, his hand left their mane and followed the center of their body. A smooth, newly flat chest, soft stomach, and hips that jumped as his finger tickled the hair between their legs. Lightly, very lightly he drew fingers over the curls, making them struggle for more. The transformative treatments had made his Listener so sensitive, so needy. Once upon a time, they had been shy. Now, their little gasps made his blood burn, but his touches were careful, light as a feather, merely ghosting over the sensitive, peach delicate, fuzzed skin. 

  
Labored breathing was his reward, and a gasping plea.   
"Cicer-aaah-" it cut off as a single finger dipped in, slowly stroking the line of perfect smoothness from the place where their clit anchored on bone to its swollen, over-sensitive tip.

  
"Please, oh Sithis please, I can't -", his whole palm now pressed and slid against the sensitive lips as his longest digit sought out Listener's entrance. Their hole was tight and twitching, so sopping and messy that it soaked his entire palm. It was so much slicker than blood; his fingers slid beautifully, pulling a rattling sound out of his partner with every brush of skin on sensitive skin. _Slowly_ , stroke after stroke made them shudder, their pathetic, delicious whimpers chipping away at his fragile patience. He felt each soft petal, each membrane, each ridge of fevered, delicate flesh. First one finger, then two, slid smoothly in and out, torturously patient, until they cried out wordlessly and their hips and channel convulsed. It could have been mistaken for pain... but it probably wouldn't be.

  
Twitching around his fingers, they felt tight, even tighter than before, and unimaginably slippery. They had gone limp, so he took the moment to free his cock, aching with need, from his trousers. He had earned this. He had earned it a hundred times. More importantly, he had permission. They'd told him, on a night that he would never forget, to use them as thoroughly and often as he liked, until told otherwise. 

  
Slowly, deliberately, he slicked himself with his hand and pressed into them. It took hardly any pressure, they were so wet, but the squeeze as his head sank in made his soul catch fire. Like fresh sharp ebony, his cock sunk into the hot, velvet, pull of their body. He rumbled, a deep register alien to Cicero the fool. He lent forward, pressing their leg forward until their knee was even with their face. Hot breath stirred his fine hair, and he could see in his minds eye the sweet, doe eyed Listener beneath him, plump lips open and begging. This angle was the one that left them ruined. He rolled his hips back, and sank in again, hearing a gasp and imagining their eyes rolling like the eyes of a mad horse as their hips wriggled. He took his pleasure, rolling back and sinking in, first deliberately and then with increasing speed. The Listeners sweet little sounds grew more pleading, groans forced out of their lungs in an unmistakable rhythm, and colored with tones of complete and utter submission. 

  
For the briefest moment, his spirit split from the flesh of him, and he imagined the others, hearing the Listener and he through the chamber door. How would they feel, knowing for certain how thoroughly he was using the Listener, wringing his satisfaction out of them until they were a sweaty, exhausted mess, hardly able to walk. A rising wave of heat broke inside him, and he rammed forward, roughly taking the Listener's mouth in a bruising, violent kiss that silenced the screaming moan soon to come. His hips no longer kept a gentle rhythm; they hammered into the tight, overstimulated, pulling, sucking void in pursuit of a single mindless, brutal goal.Their kiss broke with him raising his head in a full body contraction, panting like an animal as he thrust in and pulled his partners head to the side, to latch his teeth onto their neck. With a hard, sucking bite, he shook, his balls contracting, hot jets of seed filling the deepest depths of _his_ Listener. _His. Only his._

  
They cried out with a near death-rattle, mentally and physically overspent as his muscular body wrung a final climax out of them. He rode them through it, hips rocking as their channel's aftershocks wrung him dry. He tumbled over to the side. Every muscle in his body was completely spent, cool clarity washing him over with bliss. A genuinely idiotic grin split his face and he moved to gently stroke the Listener between their legs, making them shake. They were drenched in sweat, and the slick of arousal; they would need to bathe soon.

Soon, but not yet. For now his mind was empty. No thoughts, no pains. Perfect darkness. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hit that mf <3 button for me please, I need the serotonin so bad


End file.
